


The Change

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-19
Updated: 2005-09-19
Packaged: 2018-09-29 22:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10146116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Draco and Harry get together, Harry leaves Draco to fight the war, he comes back but has changed.it's also terribly cliche and rubbish, my apologies but hopefully i get away with it, and you'll get over it.Disclaimer: Rowling owns the lot, im learning to deal with itoh and thanks to the Carmen, you rock girl!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Draco Malfoy paced in the front room of his muggle flat. The flat he and Harry once shared, before Harry left. Leaving only a note on his pillow. A note! After all they had been through together! Thirteen words, only thirteen words…

“I’m Sorry, it’s over. I can’t let you die too. I love you.”

He didn’t even sign his damn name! They had been together since their fourth year at Hogwarts, openly so by the end of the year. Three years on and Draco found himself pacing in their front room, the one they had once shared. He had given up so much for the love of a boy who was now gone. He thought they would have been together forever. Harry had promised him that, and Draco like some love-sick Gryffindor fool had abandoned all for the sake of that promise- he’d left his family, disgraced his name, and for what? To end up alone? To pace the floors of this lonely flat? To find himself one winters night, thinking about Harry and where he was, staring out the windows and wondering if he was still alive?

When he first read the note he had cried, then he raged around, smashing things and cursing muggles out of his window. He was now going through the plain old denial stage. He was denying that he ever loved that Potter who thought he was so amazing. In-fact he resembled his father a great deal at the moment; something that infuriated him even more. Which was partly why he could be found on this particularly stormy night, pacing. Occasionally lifting his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to stop the tears, to make them and the hurt go away.

The thing was, no matter how much he denied it, he loved Harry. If he was honest, he had from day one, but in an attempt to deny those feelings he turned all his power to hating him, that boy that he looked at too often in class, and had too much of an obsession with. Then one day, a day Draco would never forget, Harry had found him in a potions classroom. Draco thinking Harry was going to curse him was completely shocked when Harry had grabbed him and pulled him into the most amazing, perfect, passionate kiss. The sort of kiss that should have been put into a box to be kept forever.

He continued to pace, but quickly stopped when he heard the door, it was just a creak at the doorstep, but Draco, who had got used to wizards trying to kill him, now had impeccable hearing. He turned towards the door waiting for a knock. If they knocked generally they could be trusted. He waited for what felt like an eternity when finally they knock came. Quiet and pathetic, almost as if the person knocking didn’t actually want to be heard. 

He made his way hesitantly, almost warily, towards the door. If truth be told he was almost scared of who would be standing there. He wished he hadn’t blasted the peephole off the door in one of his rages. But eventually he made it to the door, and found himself unwilling to open it. His hand on the doorknob he stood still not sure of what he was going to do. He knew who he wanted to be standing there, but didn’t dare to hope, couldn’t stand the thought that it could be someone else. So he just stood, hand gripping at the doorknob until he faintly heard the sounds of someone moving, as if preparing to leave. He flung open the door, his wand out and pointing in front of him.

What he saw took the breath out him. It was Harry. He was alive! He had won the war! But fighting for attention in Draco’s brain was anger; he didn’t know whether he should be happy or angry at seeing him there. Quickly though these feelings subsided as he took in Harry sorry state. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he looked.

There Harry stood, shoulders stooped like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His usually boisterous hair was sodden and stuck flat to his head. His scar, clearly visible, was a violent and angry red. When the door had swung open he had turned around, but had not raised his wand, a clear sign of submission, which was not how Harry did things. 

However, that was not why Draco wanted to cry on his behalf. It was Harry’s eyes that worried him the most. Although they had always been too old, and always seemed care-worn they had at least seemed alive, looking into Harry’s eyes he saw nothing familiar. They were still vivid green beneath his glasses but they looked shut-off, and closed in, as if Harry has shut himself off from the world. There was nothing only sorrow, a dead sorrow. To look into his eyes made you glad you didn’t have see through them, because the sadness of them told stories of their own. 

Draco stood there, taking in the sight of his lover, the one he thought he had lost forever, oblivious to the rain pounding his face or the wind howling in his ears. 

Neither of them moved. 

They stood there drinking each other in for what seemed like an eternity. It was Harry that moved first. He made to step towards Draco, which instantly broke the spell of the moment. As he made to reach out towards him, Draco stepped back and slammed the door on his face.

He slid down the back of the door, feeling the tears begin to prick his eyes. Harry began pound on the door.

“Draco!” he shouted through the door. “Draco let me in! Let me explain, he’s gone… Voldemort’s gone… it’s… it’s over. Draco?” His voice trailing off pathetically at the end.

Draco said nothing; he just sat by the door and let the tears fall. He didn’t know how he felt. On one hand he was swelling with happiness at seeing and hearing Harry, knowing he was alive. On the other hand though he was angry, selfish though it was, he was angry at the way Harry had left him. Angry at the way he had not let him help, and angry at the way he thought he couldn’t look after him… and as for the bit about Voldemort being gone, well he didn’t even know where to begin with that one.

Harry began pounding on the door again.

“Just let me in! Hear me out! I… I… I need you to listen! You’re the only one… the only one I have ever… ever loved… I’m not leaving until you let me in! Draco! Draco, please…”

Draco couldn’t leave Harry out in the rain for any longer, he loved him so much that the need to hold him, kiss him, and lie with him over came all his other feeling of hurt and anger. In a second he was up and at the door had swung it open and pulled Harry in rib crushing embrace.

“You better tell me everything Harry, and you better tell me now” he said, whilst drying Harry off with a wave of his wand.

“He’s gone.” Harry began breathlessly, “When I left I went straight to him and…”

“And what?”

“I- I killed him.” Harry whispered, his voice both hesitant and hard, “He was arrogant. I knew I was dead for sure, but then that thing happened with the wands and this time instead of running I stayed and fought and his death eaters where not there to help him and so I… I fought him and I won.”

“Why did you leave the way you did?” Draco asked. It was so much for him to take in so he decided he wanted the basics first and worry about the small print later.

“The way I left, Draco?”, Harry said, genuinely having no idea what he was talking about.

“Yes”, He urged. “The Note. On my pillow. You remember, right?” He was beginning to worry about Harry, who seemed out of place with his surroundings as if he wasn’t quite sure of how everything should be or should look.

“Oh yeah, I remember now”, he said with a cough. “Well I had to Draco… I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Draco was worried watching his lover. There was something wrong he didn’t seem comfortable in his own skin and seemed distant. Harry sat on the couch and fell silent, for all he claimed to love Draco and need him, he certainly seemed like a complete stranger. But he thought, giving himself a mental shake, after all he had been through why would he seem like his old self? Of course he would have changed, murder would change anyone. So he put his worries to one side and promptly sat down beside him and began to kiss him all over his face and neck.

Harry at first was slow to respond but eventually he began to kiss Draco back. Even his kisses were different, but Draco did not care. He felt himself growing hard within minutes of being in the same room as Harry and the pleasure he felt just to have him kiss back brought him close to climax. But not yet, he thought, he wanted this to last forever, but his want had him fumbling with his belt. Harry began to kiss him up and down his neck but was not being his usual dominant self; he was allowing Draco the control. The way Draco liked it but seldom got, throughout their relationship. 

This made Draco kiss and rub against Harry with renewed vigour. He quickly got Harry’s clothes off whilst Harry cupped his increasingly hardening length through his now straining jeans. Draco wanted him and he wanted him now, he couldn’t hold it off any longer. Therefore when Harry opened his legs, as if reading his thoughts he wasted no time in getting off his own clothes, whilst all the time Harry kissed his neck with kisses lighter than snow that sent shivers through Draco’s entire body and caused him to forget to breath. When he finally slipped inside of Harry and felt his familiar warmth he could not stop himself from moaning his name over and over again and professing his un-dying love for him. He quickly spilt his seed inside of his lover and as he looked down to his lover once he had removed himself from him he realised that he never wanted to be apart from this boy again. He was glad he gave up his name and his family, because it never gave him the love and feeling of belonging that he had when he was with Harry.

He rolled over beside his lover on their cramped couch and felt himself drifting into the most peaceful sleep he had had since Harry had left him, months before.

However his sleep was not for long and he quickly awoke to find himself face to face with Harry who was pointing a wand to his throat. 

“Harry what are you doing?” he exclaimed, jumping from the couch

“Harry is dead.” He said, and as he said it he grew in size, his eyes turning red and the room around him grew dark. Harry Potter no longer stood before Draco, in his place stood Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord and a million times more terrifying in person than his reputation could ever convey.

Draco could do nothing but stare. Harry was dead? Voldemort had taken on his form? Was that possible? How could this be? He had just made love to him less than half an hour before… it couldn’t really have been Voldemort in his place, it couldn’t. It couldn’t.

“Harry Potter is dead.” He said again. “The Boy Who Lived is dead. He proved he was no match for Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard who has ever lived. He proved his dead mother had more power than he did. He lived on borrowed time, his time ran out. And now Draco I have come to finish all that Potter left behind, or his mark upon. You had promise. You could have stood beside me with your father, but you chose to die when you chose your fate, chose to stay for the love of a boy who was awaiting his execution date.”

“I… I…” Draco stammered. “Harry was a powerful wizard! I loved him… I would rather die knowing he loved me, than live standing beside you.” He had somehow found strength in knowing that he would die.

“Crucio,” Voldemort whispered, with a lazy flick of his wand.

The pain Draco felt was nothing like he could ever have imagined, his body was on fire, he was being stabbed all over, his blood was pumping painfully round his body he felt like his head would explode and implode at the same time. He wanted to pass out, but his eyes were painfully open and all the while he had to look upon Voldemort’s face, which was split into a gleeful grin, all the while he laughed an evil high pitched laugh that made Draco’s heart hurt more than his body. Eventually the pain subsided and he found he couldn’t move he was shaking so badly.

“Stand up, Blood Traitor, look your killer in the eye before your life ends. Show the back bone your name and genes claim you should have.”

And so, he stood, and looked Voldemort in the eye. He said a silent prayer to Harry, who he knew he would be joining soon. The world seemed to slow as his eyes followed the green flash that emitted from Voldemort’s wand and as he fell to the ground in his last seconds he was sure he could see Harry standing behind Voldemort waiting to welcome him back.

End.


End file.
